


Rigged

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/M, Rough Sex, Vaginal Fingering, a terrible attempt at espionage, cheating at sports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-23 23:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1583900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>fem!Canada is sent by her brother to spy on Russia, but things never go as planned</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rigged

**Author's Note:**

> hello! so this is a little thing i wrote while my computer was broken. this is definitely probably dub con, so if thats something that bothers you, you might not want to read this. other than that, i hope you enjoy it!

“Disqualified?! That’s bullshit!” He’s pacing like a caged tiger, and considering how pissed he is, he could do about as much damage as a tiger.

“Al, just try to calm-”

“Calm down?! Our performance was perfect! Disqualified! With no explanation! Seems a little suspicious if you ask me.” Here we go again.

“Al, you’re being paranoid. I’m sure there’s a perfectly good-”

“I bet it was that damn Russia. Yeah, I bet he fixed this whole damn thing because he knew he couldn’t beat the Americans!” I sigh. There’s no arguing with him.

“Al-”

“If only I could prove it. You know, sometimes I wish I could do that whole invisibility thing you do, Maddie. Would definitely come in… handy…” he looks up at me. Oh no. I know that look. That’s the Do-Something-Stupid-And-Almost-Get-Us-Killed look. This is not gonna end well.

“Al?” He can’t be thinking what I think he’s thinking.

“You know,” and there’s the This-Is-A-Great-Idea-That-Totally-Won’t-Get-Us-Killed-Promise smile, “you would make THE perfect spy-”

“Oh, hell no, Al!” Fuck that.

“But Maddie! He’s plotting against me, I know it!” he whines.

“That’s what started that whole Cold War pissing contest, Al, your paranoia!”

“But what if this is just the beginning? It’s Russia, there’s no telling what else he’s planning!”

“Exactly, it’s Russia! You know, huge, carries around a lead pipe, abuses his subordinates for shits and giggles, batshit insane. He’ll kill me!” In the most painful way possible.

“No he won’t, he’ll never know you’re there! You’d be invisible!” and there’s the This-Is-Foolproof grin.

“No.”

“Maddie,” he’s begging. Don’t look.

“No.” Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’t-

“Maddie.” Dammit, I looked.

“I don’t have much control over it, what if I suddenly turn visible again and he catches me? As I said before, he will kill me!” I can’t be considering this. There’s just no way.

“The chances of that happening are like, a billion to one.”

“He’s got a point.” I glare at the bear in the corner.

“You’re not helping, Kumatani. Think, who would feed you if Russia killed me?”

“Considering I don’t know who you are, probably my owner.”

“I am your owner!” I’m starting to think my den needs a new rug. A bearskin rug.

“See? Even if he sees you, he won’t recognize you. Please, Maddie.”

“And what if he mistakes me for you?” Al gives me a look and gestures to my chest.

“How? I mean, come on. Tits.” I blush and cross my arms over my chest.

“That doesn’t stop Arthur, now does it?” I mumble.

“Iggy is drunk half the time.”

“So is Ivan.”

“Yeah, but Iggy is stupid when he’s drunk. Russia isn’t any different because he’s about ninety percent booze at any given moment.” The other ten percent is evil, by the way.

“I’m not playing in to your delusions, Alfred.” I look away again.

“Please, Maddie, I’ll never ask you for anything ever again.” He takes my hands is both of his.

“You have got to learn how to lie better.” I hear his knees hit the floor. He’s groveling at my feet. Come on, Al, pandering to my inferiority complex is a cheap trick.

“Help me, Maddie, you’re my only hope.”

Goddammit.

***

I must have a death wish. That’s it, Arthur didn’t hug me enough as a child and I developed a death wish. That’s the only way I can explain getting talked in to… this. That and the Star Wars. Gets me every time and he knows it.

I am currently wearing short shorts, a tight fitting white tee-shirt with no bra (“Definitely won’t mistake you for me with your headlights on full blast, if you know what I mean.” Thanks, Al), and I’m currently looking for a homicidal maniac. Because my paranoid brother got down on his knees and made a Star Wars reference. Maple, I can see my nipples through this shirt. Well, no one has spared me a second (or first, for that matter) glance, so at least the invisibility is working. And, hey, this place is huge. I might not even find Russia. I’ll just wander aimlessly until Alfred calms down and sees how bad of an idea this is. Well, that probably won’t happen, but I can kick his ass for talking me in to-

Well, fuck.

There’s Russia. Tall, creepy, murderous, strong, surprisingly handsome- what. I shake my head to clear and steel my nerves. He’s walking away from me. That’s a good thing. Holy mother of Maple, why am I following him? No good can come of this. I follow him down the hall and around the corner. He’s heading for the elevator. There’s no way I’m getting in that tight space with him. He’s hit the up call button, I’ll see what floor he gets off on then take the stairs. And then… I have no idea.

The doors to the elevator open- and of course there’s a giant fucking mirror for the back. Oh no. No. Is that recognition on his face? Oh please don’t see me. Please don’t turn around. Pleasedon’tpleasedon’tpleasedon’tplease-

“Kanada?” he asks as he turns around. Oh great, he doesn’t just see me, he recognizes me. I wave, like an idiot. A dead idiot.

“H-hey, Ivan,” I squeak. OhgodI’mgoingtodiefuckyouAlfredandthehorseyourodeinon-

His eyes dart down to my chest and I quickly cross my arms across my chest. Why do I even own this shirt and why is he staring at me like that oh god this has gotten awkward-

“Are you needing the elevator, comrade?” he asks. Elevator, right!

“Yes!” I answer quickly, too quickly. He moves into the elevator and I follow him. He hit’s the button for the eighth floor. He’s staring at me again, why is he staring at me?

“Floor?” Oh, right. People usually go to other floors in elevators.

“Uh, seventh?” Why was that a question? He presses the button and the doors close. Oh god I’m trapped in an elevator with Russia, of all the worst possible things this is THE WORST. POSSIBLE. THING.

You know that unpleasant feeling you get in your stomach when the elevator starts to move? It’s a lot worse when you’re stuck in said elevator with a psychopath. And he’s so fucking tall, I’m as tall as Alfred and I only come up to his shoulder and he just keeps smiling and why is he smiling at me like that?

“Why are you following me, Kanada?” he asks so sweetly and it’s so scary.

“Wha-what? I-I’m not-”

“Nyet. You are. I pick floor above mine, you pick my floor,” that manipulative bastard tricked me, “why are you following me?”

“I-I’m staying on-”

“Nyet, you aren’t. you are staying on fourth floor with your dirty capitalist brother.” How does he know that? Why the fuck does he know what room I’m staying in? I shake my head but he puts his hand on my shoulder and oh god he’s not smiling anymore he’sgoingtokillmeI’msosorryAl.

“Alfred thinks you rigged the game and he sent me to follow you to get proof because I’m usually invisible but you saw me and I’m sorry please don’t kill me please I don’t want to die-” he puts his finger over my lips.

“Shh, I won’t hurt you,” he says, then presses the button to restart the elevator. He smiles at me and spends the rest of the ride in silence. The doors open on the seventh floor and he moves to leave the elevator.

“I’m really sorry,” I say again.

“Is okay,” he places one hand on the top of my head and uses his shoulder to hold the elevator doors open, “tell Alfred not to send little girl to do man’s job.”

Um, excuse me? Little- and he’s just going to walk away from me? I stop the doors from closing and watch him walk away. Just who does he think he is? Just who does he think he’s dealing with?! Little girl! I am not a little girl! I am a woman! I am Madison Williams! I am the second largest country by land mass, second only to him! I am Canada, dammit, and I am not afraid of you, Ivan Braginski!

I stalk down the hall after him. I don’t have a plan, I just do the first thing that comes to mind: I launch myself at his back. Usually, I do this to Al when he really pisses me off and he falls. But this is Russia. Ivan doesn’t even stumble.

Okay, Plan B (whatamItalkingaboutthereisnoplanwhatthefuckamIdoing). I lock my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck. You know, he smells good, I mean, you can definitely smell the vodka on him but it’s mostly just fresh and crisp and cool like the mountains and his hair is soft and whyisthisturningmeon?

He sighs. “What are you doing, Kanada?” That’s a great question, the fuck am I doing?

“I’m not letting go until you tell me if you fixed that game.” Oh yea, that’s right. Death wish.

“Let go.”

“No.” Nope, I’m in this “balls deep” as Alfred would say.

“I am not playing, let go.” He pulls at my legs. Oh no, buddy, hockey. I play it. I kick your ass at it. These legs are strong and they are not letting go until I say so.

“Non.” That’s right, busting out the French. This little girl just went badass and I feel sorry for you for underestimating the True North. He sighs again and shrugs. That’s right, give up, you-

He’s walking down the hall again. As if I’m not clinging to his back. Was not expecting that. Plan C? I got nothing.

“I-Ivan?” I squeak. I have officially lost any badassery I worked up in the last 30 seconds.

“Hmm~?” Oh, he practically sang that. Goingtodie.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“I am going to my room. You are free to be leaving at any time.” His room. Goingtodieverypainfully.

“N-no.” Balls deep.

“Then that is where you are going too.” ThatisalsowhereIdie.

“O-oh.” I yelp as I feel his hands on my thighs. And they’re sliding up. Very… suggestively.

“Ivan? Um, it’s not that I don’t appreciate you holding me up, but, u-um, your hands are getting very close to my… um, vital regions.”

“I know.” Oh, well, as long as he knows. His hands are practically on my ass. Then the fingers on his right hand slip in to the leg of my shorts and-

“Ivan!” Why is he rubbing that?

“You are free to let go.” Oh, you sneaky bastard.

“N-no,” I mumble and bury my face into his neck. He slips a finger beneath my underwear and the angle isn’t good for anything and he can only get the tip of his middle finger inside but oh god it feels so good. I whimper and have to stop myself from trying to move further on to that finger-

Voices. There are voices. I look up and there are people coming down the hall and they look important and oh crap oh crap oh crap.

“Ivan, stop!” I whisper. I can practically hear his smile.

“Nyet. Not until you let go.”

“Dammit, Ivan! Stop, please, there are people.”

“Nyet.” I squeeze my eyes shut and bite back a moan and wait for the worst. And it never comes. The people walk by Ivan as if he isn’t currently fingering a girl latched to his back. Oh, now I’m invisible again! Being invisible now does not help me!

He stops in front of a door and retrieves a keycard from his pocket, thankfully (ormaybenot) removing his finger from my… yeah. Well, this is where I die. Fuck you, Al, I’m haunting your ass for this, and I know how you love ghosts.

Ivan opens the door, steps in, then closes and locks the door. I hope Al takes care of Kuma, he’s picky, although Kumaroji giving Al shit is what he deserves.

He pries my legs from his waist. Wait, why did he not do that earlier? It’s almost as if he wanted me to-

He throws me on to the bed, then takes off his scarf and shirt (no coat, too hot even for him). Oh. Shit. He’sgoingtorapeme. That’s why he didn’t pull me off sooner. That’s why he was touching…

I try to scramble off the other side of the bed but he’s on the bed, pulling me to him by my ankle.

“L-look, let’s just talk aboot-”

“Nyet, time for talking has passed.”

“Please, Ivan-”

“Nyet,” and he kisses me. It’s rough and he’s biting my lips and forcing his tongue in to my mouth and I moan. For the love of Maple, Madison, the man is going to rape you! Rape! You’re not supposed to be enjoying this or kissing him back! His hands are at the collar of my shirt and he rips it all the way down the middle (goodbye, Devil Shirt) and my nipples are instantly hard. I don’t know if I’m squirming to get away from him or to get out of the shirt and oh fuck me (he’sgoingtowhetheryouwanthimtoornot) his teeth are at my neck and his hands are on my breasts and he’s squeezing and pinching and-

“I-Ivan, st-stop,” I beg but oh Madison when you say it like that he’s just going to ignore you. He doesn’t even answer, he just growls and if that wasn’t the sexiest noise I’ve ever heard and I look down at him (neverlookyouneverlook) and he’s just glaring at me when did he get that sexy? And now his mouth (andteethohgod) is on my left nipple don’tstopdon’tstopohpleasedon’tstop.

You know what? To hell with it, I haven’t had a decent lay in months and if the way Ivan is squeezing my ass is any indication this is going to be the fuck of a lifetime. So when he switches breasts, I don’t hold back my moan. I feel him pause and I peek at him. He’s noticed I’m not fighting it anymore and he kisses me again. It’s gentle at first but that’s not what I want and that’s definitely not what he wants. The kiss devolves in to teeth and tongues and panting and ohgodhe’spullingmycurl. I moan and bury my face in his neck, sucking and nipping. Ivan is undoing the fly on my shorts and I’m undoing his belt and pants and he’s pulling my shorts down my legs. I help him get them off and there go my underwear and his finger slips in so easily because I’ve never been this wet before. He uses the heel of his palm to rub my clit and it’s throbbing and he’spullingmycurlagainohfuck. I move my hips with his fingers (ohwhendidthatsecondonegetinthere?) and oh god I’m coming ohgodohgodohgod-

“Already? But we are just starting, comrade,” he purrs and I can hear your smirk, you smug bastard. I’m trying to catch my breath and he takes this moment to pull his pants off and-

For the love of Maple and all that is holy it’s as big as my arm. Is he part horse? He’s going to split me in half with that thing and whyisthatturningmeonwhatiswrongwithme? He lifts my hips and I can’t watch and there it is, pressing in and as long as he goes slow I think I’ll be-

“Ivan!” I scream as he thrusts all the way up to the hilt (balls deep). He’s mumbling (morelikegrowlingfuckthatissosexy) something in Russian against my neck but fuck if I know what the hell he’s saying. He doesn’t give me any time to adjust before he’s pounding me into the mattress. I swear to Maple I can feel it in my throat and this should hurt a lot more than it does but it doesn’t it just feels so good and oh god he’s going faster and harder and holding my legs as far apart as they’ll go and-

I’m screaming, I know I am but I can’t hear it. I can barely form a coherent thought other than ohgodmoremoremore. I know I’m leaving scratches down his back and I’m going to have bruises tomorrow but I don’t care, justpleasemoredon’tstoppleaseIvandon’t-

He shifts his angle just the slightest bit but it makes all the difference in the world and I arch off the bed and he’s drilling that one spot harder and he’s got my curl wrappedaroundhisdamnfingerI’mcomingagainohgodohgod-

He’s panting hard in my ear. The floodgates have opened and he’s not holding back anything (waitallthatbeforewasholdingbackohgod) and I can’t do anything but cling to him and hang on for the ride. He lets out one long groan (it’sreallymoreofagrowlgoddamnhe’ssosexywhenhegrowls) and I can feel him throbbing inside of me and he’s coming too. I loosen my grip on him (arms around his neck, legs around his waist, oh the irony) and he rolls off of me. My legs feel like jello.

“Has anyone ever told you that you speak French during sex?” he asks.

“A few times, yes.”

“What is ‘baise-moi’ meaning?” I cover my face with my hands.

“’Fuck me’.” I look over as he sits up. He’s smiling at me again.

“I was hoping to lure Alfred in to rape-trap,” ‘rape-trap’? Did he really just say ‘rape-trap’? “but I am thinking I like this outcome better.” Good to know. Wait…

“You planned this?” I ask as I sit up.

“Da. For Alfred. This much better,” he says as he gets up and goes to the phone. He dials a number.

“You did fix the game. Holy Maple, Al was right!” He’s talking to the person on the other end of the line in Russian. He hangs up and turns to me.

“Da, but I fix it. Americans are no longer disqualified and are free to be crushed by the might of Mother Russia,” and he’s just smiling like all is right in the world.

“You were planning on raping my brother? Why? I thought you hated Al,” I ask. I’m still trying to piece all of this together.

“Your brother, he is- what is English word- cocktease?” I stare at him blankly, then start laughing.

“Cocktease?”

“Why are you laughing? Is not right word?” he asks. He looks so innocent, which just makes it funnier. He sits next to me on the bed.

“No, it’s the right word, it’s just,” I shake my head, “never mind, Ivan.” Although, now that I think about it, it makes sense. All of their fighting is just sexual tension. He smiles brightly and kisses me.

“Okay~!”

***

I knock on the door to Al’s room. I’m completely exhausted and sore all over. Let’s just say I “became one with Russia” several more times. In several different positions. The door opens and there’s Al, stuffing his face.

“Maddie, there you are! What took you-” I shove past him.

“Don’t ask.”

“What happened to your white shirt?”

“Don’t ask.” Ivan was kind enough to give me one of his shirts.

“Jeez, why are you in such a bad mood?” he asks. Oh, why am I in a bad mood? I’ll tell you why. No matter how good of a lay Ivan is (andohgodishegood), he’s still Russia. Which means he’s still a jerkass. So after fucking me silly, he threw me out of his room! I had to use the wall for support until I got to the elevator because I can’t feel my thighs!

“Don’t ask.” Fuck you, Alfred.

“Well, they appealed the disqualification, so I guess that whole spy-on-Russia thing was unnecessary.” Unnecessary. Haha. Fuck you, Alfred.

“I guess so,” I say as I walk (limp, why does everything hurt?) towards his bed. He follows me.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Yep.” Oh his eyes lit up at that.

“Really?! Was it him? Did he fix the game?”

“Yep.”

“I knew it! I’m gonna teach that Commie bastard not to mess with the US of A!” I grab the back of his shirt before he can run off.

“Don’t.”

“But why? He-”

“It’s a trap.”

A rape-trap.


End file.
